Fevered Imaginings
by CMW2
Summary: Reid/Prentiss fic: Ambassador Prentiss' annual Spring Fete has arrived and Emily would prefer to be anywhere but there...until she runs into Reid; 9th in my 2010 SSS Project.


**Author's Note: I am sick. Again. In order to take my mind off of it, I want to put up a new oneshot.**

**Yet again, it's a Criminal Minds fic but this time, Reid and Prentiss will be getting some much needed attention. One of the first episodes I saw was the New Orleans one and I could immediately pick up on some tension between them. Now many will just dismiss that as Reid being messed up at the time but I, along with some other authors on here think otherwise.**

**I just finished a wonderful case/romance fic called "How To Fight Loneliness" (which if you haven't read, you should totally do it like **_**NOW**_**) and now my muse and the marauding band of crazy plot bunnies in my front yard want me to get in the action. If there's an interest in more from me, I may turn this from a oneshot into another WIP on my SSS roster or just come up with a whole different fic.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

She walked out onto the balcony, knowing that it would be an oasis from the annual Spring Fete her mother insisted on putting on. Normally, Emily Prentiss could avoid it, either by a case or dodging her mother's calls until the day was past. Unfortunately, the UnSubs decided to take a break and her mother had given her the invitation in person…at 6AM on a Saturday.

It was difficult to deal with Elizabeth Prentiss when she was 100% but when she was in her nightgown and had dragon breath…well, she was at the stupid party, wasn't she?

The last 2 hours had been hellish. Her mother "joked" to the mostly male crowd that she was very much single and "looking for a paramour". That was high class dialect for "Please take my spinster daughter and turn her into your human hot water bottle for the night…or until she gives me a grandchild." And of course, she had taken Garcia's advice and put on her rarely worn blood red cheongsam and 2 inch stilettos, making her stick out like a sore thumb. A _**sexy**_ sore thumb but a sore thumb all the same. Men had flocked to her like pigeons to a bridge, each one worse than the next.

She shuddered as she remembered the Senator's aide from New York. He was handsome until he opened his mouth. Ignorance and halitosis did _**not**_ make the panties drop. In fact, they made her want to invest in a chastity belt with a huge padlock. Did they still make them? Maybe she could ask Reid…

Reid. Dr. Spencer Reid. He was many things to her. Her teammate, one of her dearest friends, the young man child who could rival the Library of Congress with knowledge….and the star of numerous X rated fantasies.

They started shortly after a case in LA. During a chase with a suspect, he had ended up on the business end of a snow cone cart. She had shown up outside the PD only to see him being hosed off by a laughing Morgan. Underneath all those grandpa sweater vests and corduroy slacks was a man. Not a man child but a _**man. **_ A long lean, creamy skinned man who looked to be packing heat in all ways. Coupled with how brilliant, sweet, and badass he was and Emily was a goner: a totally pathetic, vividly dreaming (and creaming) goner.

She didn't know if she loved him but she did know that she could certainly grow to.

It was all very confusing. For one thing, she had no idea if he felt anything more than friendship towards her. For another, if he did, then Strauss and Hotch and all the other Powers That Be would have to separate the team. She wouldn't be able to verbally fence with Morgan or gossip with JJ and Garcia or be able to help people with her friends. She couldn't imagine being a profiler without them…

The door opened and she wished that she hadn't had to check in her gun. If it was some jerk or worse, her mother coming to bother her, she swore she would…

"Emily?"

Reid. Of course, it was Reid. After all, karma had an excellent sense of humor.

_**//////////////**_

He had spotted her long before Ambassador Prentiss' "joke".

She was a vision in red. The dress she had on hugged every generous curve she had and emphasized her flat stomach. Her hair was in long chocolate curls that just barely brushed her shoulders and he couldn't help but stare at her legs, tastefully shown by the slits.

Reid certainly wasn't blind but what had really won him over was on the inside, not the exterior. Emily was strong and patient. She could show empathy as easily as she could show righteous rage.

She listened to him (even when he was in textbook mode) and although she joined in on the boy genius jokes, she always meant it fondly. Emily was a dear friend to him and he couldn't imagine not having her in his life in some way, even if it was at a high class Fete.

Right now, he was just pleased to find someone who was genuine.

He had been invited (forced) to the Spring Fete by Strauss. She said that she wanted to give a human face to the BAU. Why she picked him was beyond his comprehension. Sure, he was a member of the human race but his actions made him very different than the average bear. Still, orders were orders. Plus, there would be free food.

He had dusted off his tux and even got his hair cut for the occasion. His mom always told him that even if he didn't want to be someplace, it was no excuse to look anything but neat and put together.

Reid had been resigned to rubbing elbows with bureaucrats for the night until he saw her at the bar, delicately sipping at a tumbler of scotch. His mouth had gone bone dry as she laughed at something the bartender said, her delicate throat exposed to his gaze. He had always been a neck man but now, he was just an Emily man. Any part of her could get his blood running.

Unfortunately, she had that same effect on many of the guests tonight, swarming around her like locusts, one more depraved than the next.

After the New York tool, she had fled outside. He really couldn't blame her. The air stank of over inflated egos and her mother was searching feverishly for her, possibly to auction her off like cattle.

"Looking for a paramour", his ass. She was trying to turn Emily from a competent professional to an incubator to continue the Prentiss Dynasty with blue blood. If Emily got hurt in the process, then it was of no consequence. She would just get over it. Bitch. How Emily could stand not putting a bullet in her was amazing…

"Oh, h-hey Reid. What are you doing out here?" she greeted as she sat up.

She always sounded so jumpy around him these days, like she was hiding something. It had started after she saw him get hosed down in LA. Was he that bad to look at? He wasn't the vain type but he always thought that his looks wouldn't cause women to act squirrelly. Perhaps she was trying to think of a way to tell him that he wasn't appealing kindly. "Hey, Reid, I find you as sexy as a dead raccoon but you're still my friend." sounded sufficiently tactful…

"Looking for you. I've been trying to talk to you all night but your harem kept getting in my way." he joked as he pulled up a patio chair.

She groaned and said bitterly, "Even though I'm grown, my mother can still make me feel inferior. Okay, yes, I'm 35 and yes I've never been married or even pregnant but there are more important things than that. My livelihood is helping people, whether they're a hostage or an UnSub. Is that so bad?"

"Of course not. Statistics show that more women are waiting longer to start families and it's perfectly acceptable to those of the 21st century mindset. The Ambassador seems to be behind the times." he soothed in his "Reid" way, knowing that she would give him a smile.

A flock of butterflies erupted in his stomach as she did so and it took all the self control he had not to kiss her. He wasn't exactly sure when his feelings for the woman across from him had changed but he just knew that they had. It was a problem. Emily was so out of his league, it wasn't even funny. She was witty, cultured, graceful and so damn beautiful! Hell, he should be happy that she even considered someone like him a friend and push the Feelings out.

But, it was hard. Once he was interested in someone, only outright rejection could dissuade him from it. If he didn't want to be in limbo, then he would either have to make a move or wait for her. Both options were very unappealing but what could he do? He was between a rock and a hard place.

Suddenly, her hand reached out and he held submissively still as she fussed with his unraveling bow tie, even though electricity was racing down his spine…

_**//////////////**_

She would have to thank him for wearing such a fragile tie.

Now, she could touch him with a genuine excuse. After all, he couldn't be at function like this in a messed up tie. Not only would he be talked about behind his back, he would probably end up in People magazine. Although, in Emily's opinion, he'd be better in GQ, preferably without a shirt and it would be nice if he weren't in pants either…

"There. Much better." she declared after a few moments, unable to keep up the ruse.

Unconsciously, her hands slid down to his chest and she could not only feel the solid definition of his muscles but a racing heart? Why would his heart be racing? It wasn't like he was exercising or anything else strenuous…oh. Oh!

Looking up into his big brown eyes, she tentatively continued touching him, noticing that he was breathing faster and deeper.

"I was wrong, wasn't I? You haven't been weird around me since LA because you _**didn't **_like what you saw but because you _**did**_. Right?" he entreated shakily, making her teeth sink into her bottom lip.

It was a habit from childhood, one that her mother had tried and failed to break her of. It only happened when she was truly nervous and she certainly was nervous now. She should have expected a question like that. It was Reid! Of course, he would pick up on her admittedly odd behavior. He was a profiler, after all…

Unable to speak, she merely nodded and looked down at her hands. They stood out against the crisp white of his shirt and she wondered how they would look against his skin, how they would feel. All sorts of thoughts previously reserved for her dreams kept rushing through her head, making her face flush and her core heat up. Small amounts of heated creams began to build in her panties and she could smell it amongst the roses.

So could he. The way his gaze darkened made her feel like a lamb in front of a ravenous wolf. She wanted him to devour her. She wanted to devour him. Leaning forward, she tentatively brushed feather light kisses against his lips. Burying his elegant hands into her curled hair, he responded wholeheartedly, seeking permission to twine his tongue with hers. With a weak moan, Emily yielded. A shiver went through her as his sweetness hit her tongue and she let him dip her, kissing her like a man on a mission…

"Emily, why are you- oh my!"

Karma didn't only have an excellent sense of humor, it had a sick and twisted one.

How else would her mother be the one to interrupt their first kiss?

_**//////////////**_

_Breathe deeply and quietly, breathe from below the navel and let the calm blow through you like a gentle summer breeze…_

He was sitting outside Ambassador Prentiss' study like a boy sat outside the principal's office. The thick oak door let only minimal sound through but he could definitely discern yelling…a whole lot of yelling. He winced and unraveled his bow tie, needing something to occupy his hands as he waited.

The Fete was still in full swing, taken over by the AG and Strauss while the Ambassador handled a "family crisis". Reid didn't know whether to be flattered or insulted that he was considered a crisis. If he were a crisis, then he wasn't just material for a fling or a one night stand. The always poised Elizabeth Prentiss wouldn't be yelling her head off if he weren't a viable option for Emily.

Emily. Emily had kissed him. No, Emily had caressed him and then kissed him. Both his chest and his lips were still burning from her touch and he could feel a very familiar itch return to him. This time he wasn't jonesing for a narcotic, he was jonesing for her. He wanted Emily in every way he could think of and he could think of a lot of ways. One didn't read anatomy textbooks and _**Lady Chatterley's Lover **_without getting some ideas…

The study door finally banged open and the Ambassador merely gave him a lethal look before returning to her guests, surprising him. He had been fully prepared to get into an argument with the woman like Emily…Emily. Where was Emily?

Instinctively, his hand went to his side, looking for his gun but of course, it wasn't there. He knew all too well what family disagreements could turn into and if Emily was…hurt then he wanted to know.

"Emily?"

She came out looking weary but he could still see the want in her gaze, the want that had nearly caused him to take her on that balcony.

"You want to get out here?" she asked him softly.

"Of course but are you okay? That was a lot of yelling."

"I'm fine. My mother's washed her hands of me but that's okay. That's one less migraine a week. Now, come on. I want to continue what we started outside."

So did he. Desperately.

_**//////////////**_

Reid in lust was certainly different than the Reid she was used to.

The permanent aura of shyness was replaced by something harder, more primal. This was a man who knew what he wanted. He wanted to take his woman and claim her as his in the most natural way. Lord knew that she had no problems with any sort of claiming he wanted. The helpless prey feeling from the balcony returned tenfold, especially as he backed her towards her bed.

Instead of shoving her down like she expected him to, he gently turned her around and placed on her mattress on her stomach. Emily frowned with confusion but relaxed as his long pianist fingers began unzipping her dress. The air of her bedroom felt icy against her overheated skin and his lips pressed fondly against the nape of her neck. She whimpered as he bit down lightly and arched into his touch as he unclasped her bra.

She turned over and his gaze was firmly on her breasts, seemingly entranced. Her nipples hardened to rose peaks and she could see them heave with each of her breaths. They were burning, aching for his mouth, his hands, anything! His kisses were excellent but not enough. She wanted Spencer Reid deep inside her **NOW**. Well, **SOON**.

"Reid…"

"Spencer.", he rasped in a voice that reminded her of heated honey.

"What?"

"My _**name**_ is _**Spencer**_." he rumbled before greedily latching onto her left nipple.

_**//////////////**_

Reid. Spencer. Sex God of Wonder, whatever he wanted to be called, she'd call him it just as long as he didn't stop touching her. His lips and fingers had taken her under, trapping her in his web. In her heated haze, she had managed to get the upper half of him bare but his belt was quite stubborn. Perhaps it was the modern incarnation of her once longed for chastity belt but right now, instead of protecting his virtue, it was pissing her off!

"Get this damned thing out of my way!" she growled as she gave up, much to his amusement.

He stood up and undid the offending leather with ease, causing her to yank him back to her and pin him down. He shivered as her tongue followed the line of dark hair until she returned to the waistband of his pants. He helpfully lifted his hips as she pulled them off, taking his boxers with them. His length sprang to attention, deep pink and raging. Her insides clenched as she wrapped a hand around him. He was thicker and longer than she was used to. It would be a tight fit, doable but it would hurt so good.

"Emily.", he squeaked as she tentatively began to stroke him, causing her to smile and meet his gaze.

He looked like he was in presence of a Goddess, that he couldn't believe that he was with her, touching her and being touched. Well, he was. This was no dream. This was the real thing and damn if it didn't feel sinfully good. His hand wrapped around hers and moved it away from his shaft before pulling her up with surprising strength. It was yet another reminder that Spencer was a whole different animal than she was used to.

Any other man would have used her head like a steering wheel.

"I want to be inside you." he murmured before fusing their lips back together.

Emily let him put her on her back and just let go. For once, she wasn't going to compartmentalize or try and take control. Every defense mechanism she had just couldn't stand up to Spencer Reid. It scared her but not enough to push him away. In fact, it made her want to bring him closer.

A low moan escaped her as he slid home and she smiled at the full body shudder that went through him.

Oh, yes. Closer was definitely good.

_**//////////////**_

He felt like he was going to die. He was going to die at 27, not of a heart attack or the bullet he had expected, but of ecstasy. Emily moaned with each slow connection of their bodies, arching underneath him like a feline. The way she was scratching at his back reminded him of a feline as well.

Reid had imagined their first time to be hard and fast, probably a result of an argument or grief from a horrible case. Reality was at the opposite end of the spectrum but was still wonderful.

A gasp escaped him as her walls clenched hard and she began to quiver, her moans beginning to escalate. His mouth returned to her nipples, causing her to cry out in bliss.

"Spencer! Spencer, don't stop…"

So responsive, so beautiful…his wildest dreams couldn't compare to having her with him now. Still moving tenderly inside her, he reversed their positions, wanting to see her clearly. Emily gasped and immediately braced her hands on his chest, trembling as he went even deeper inside her. Her skin was flushed a deep pink and her eyes were fevered, longing and loving. Her panting mouth came closer and he parted his lips as she tenderly kissed him, her hips resuming their lazy rhythm.

Sliding a hand down to where they were joined, he sought and found her throbbing nub, stroking it to their rhythm. She stiffened and screamed into his mouth, her orgasm causing each muscle in her body to convulse, including the ones surrounding his shaft. He moaned and breathed through the painful pleasure, not wanting to come just yet.

He wanted her underneath him for that.

_**//////////////**_

Emily felt like she was coming apart at the seams.

Sex had never been like this before, so intimately slow and tender. Usually, she took the reigns and didn't let them go until the man who too tired to do anything but sleep. The next morning, she would be gone or she would have him leave immediately. She didn't want him to leave and she didn't want to immediately take control.

Being with Spencer was not only satisfying but liberating.

He was hovering on his arms above her, thrusting inside her deep and hard. The slow tempo didn't matter. She could feel his need just as well as if he were pounding into her with abandon. He was close but holding back, putting her pleasure first.

"_Emily_…" he sighed as he buried his face in her neck. "God, Emily, you feel _**so**_ good…"

Unlike her previous lovers, Spencer wasn't speaking from his libido but from his true emotions. His tone was soft and reverent, almost awed. She kissed his neck and ran her foot down the back of his leg, urging him silently to let go, to let it take him under.

With a last deep thrust, Emily tipped over the edge with a sultry moan and he crushed their lips together, climaxing silently but with astonishing force. Her greedily clenching core took everything he had to give her, milking him dry. Her fingers wove into his trimmed hair, mussing it and sending it into every direction as their tongues twined.

After a while, they broke apart and just lay there, their arms around each other.

Neither said a word. Words were unnecessary. Spencer brushed her tangled locks out of her eyes and she smiled gently at him, pressing a light kiss to the palm of his hand. One kiss turned into another and another and soon, they were under the blankets again, cocooned away from the world. His smile was brilliant and soft, warming her from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. With a sigh, she gave into him yet again, arching into his kisses.

As much as she hated to admit it, she owed her mother a debt of gratitude.

If it weren't for her Fete, then she and Spencer would've danced around each other for months or even years before coming together like this, even with their fevered imaginings.

Reality was much better.


End file.
